Some Texas Rangers (Part 4)

Tom Burney
Groesbeck Journal
Thursday, January ? 1910.

I believe we were at Col. Martin's where we had had some trouble about towels and one of the boys shot one of his negro slaves and come near killing him, but his head was just a little too hard, the bullet cutting a streak from his eyes to the back of his head and glanced off.

We got breakfast at the house that morning and were treated with due respect after the trouble had been settled. Mr. Martin was a very wealthy man in the way of Negroes; I suppose he owned 200 or more, which accounted for so many little officers stopping over with him. He also had two pretty daughters, whom those officers wished to marry, on account of all those Negroes and land.

I have said enough about outsiders, so will say something about our own doings. We crossed the Savannah river at Sisters Ferry, not a great way above Savannah, traveled up toward Augusta, and after spending a night in that city, we turned our faces eastward until we struck Sherman's columns again and began to experience a little danger. The people were nearly all in good circumstances, and the Yankees were not slow finding it out, from the number of spoons, knives, forks, and all kinds of silverware. We had gotten ahead of some of them and found that we were all mixed up and would have to fight or run, so we did a little of both. We were first attacked by a part of Kentucky cavalry and had a considerable skirmish before they were whipped, and in running away one fellow, riding a bug sorrel mule, turned in his saddle and shot at me not more that 20 yards away and wounded my horse badly so that I could not ride it anymore then but I rode that mule out of there until I could do better, which I did pretty soon. We found we were nearly 30 miles inside their lines and me on a mule didn't suit me at all. We stayed in the woods and the people fed us until we could get out without running too much risk. I think we must have captured as many as 20 men at one house as they would straggle in there to get a meal or to abuse the people for being rebels. We rode from one hose to another through the woods and we would find a prowler at nearly every house. We soon had quite a lot of prisoners, and as luck would have it, the first Confederates we men were willing to take our prisoners off of our hands.

After leaving this part of the country, we kept close to the enemy, picking up a man now and then, not fighting much, but doing good work in the way of capturing prisoners. There was one pretty good engagement between the troops from Savannah at a place called Averyboro, but I don't know whether it was in North or South Carolina.

After this we went to Goldsboro, in North Carolina, and then we were busy all the time from there to Bentonville. Near Raleigh we had a sharp engagement. Just before the fight General Hardee's son, a boy about 16 years old, joined us and was killed within less than an hour. He was killed in the first charge after he joined. He was a gallant boy. The regiment was led by Capt. Matthews, another boy not over 21 years old, and Gen. Hardee said he saved the army from being captured by making the charge. He discovered an opening in our line and the Yankees were entering, so the captain made the charge without orders from anyone, and was successful in his undertaking.

We left Bentonville that night with Shannon's Scouts as rear guard. It rained nearly all night and part of next day. At noon we were drying our blankets and clothes, with not a sign of a picket out. The 9th Pennsylvania regiment rode into our camp before we were aware of it, and we fought all around in the pine thicket. Some saddled their horses, some were bare back and some on foot. We got enough men down to the road to hold those down there in check until we could get there. We got them started back on the run. They were in a lane with a deep gully and a fence on either side and they were so thick that they were pushing each other into the gullies and pushing the fences down, in fact, running over each other trying to get away. We were shooting down the road and doing a good business. There was a bridge at the end of the lane and the banisters were pushed off and three dead and several wounded men were lying down in the creek all wet and muddy. I say during the skirmish one man standing by a dead man robbing his pockets.

From here we started on west toward Greensboro, but in going through Raleigh, I was very hungry, just as every other soldier was, and wanted something to drink, also. Well, we got it, and got drunk besides, and came near being captured, but managed to get out all right.

When we got out about six miles we were all drinking out in back of a fine house and an old gentleman came out and asked us to do him a favor. We told him we would if we could. He said the governor was in the house and wanted to go with us, but had no way; his carriage was standing there, but his driver had taken the horses and gone. So one of the boys got behind his saddle and told him to mount, which he did in short order, and we moved on. The boy who rode behind the governor of North Carolina now lives at Elgin. We not only rode with him, but we drank with him. I got so drunk that I lost my part of him before night and I don't know that I say him any more. I did not learn his name. I ate some dry codfish and camped away from any water. I woke up late in the night, got up and saddled my horse and rode about two miles after a drink of water, and I imagined I could hear it fry as it went down. That was my experience with the Governor of North Carolina.

From here we moved west toward Greensboro, where Joseph E. Johnston surrendered. I left the army a few days before the surrender, and thought probably we could get to Mexico and continue the fight with Kirby Smith, but found out better and was paroled in Madison, Georgia. At that is the end of my army life.

If I am able in the future, I may tell of a few little incidents experienced in my travels, but my health is so bad I will close out by wishing all the old boys may be able to make it through without help from the State. It seems that Texas has forgotten us, the pension office more especially. If I have said too much I am sorry, but do not take it back.

Provided by , Tom Burney's great great grandson.

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